Summer’s POV

Brandon’s eyes never left my face as he replied, “Indeed, Professor. Though seeing Ms. Taylor’s spirited appearance today, it seems she’s already moved past that difficult time?”

That bastard. The subtle emphasis he put on ‘difficult time’ made my cheeks heat. Was he referring to the drugging incident or my public humiliation at The Plaza? Either way, the knowing look in his eyes made me want to throw something at his stupidly handsome face.

“Well,” Grandpa’s voice carried a hint of curiosity now. “Isn’t that interesting?”

I could feel my carefully constructed composure cracking under Brandon Stark’s intense gaze. The familiar comfort of Grandpa’s study suddenly felt stifling, like the walls were closing in.

“Brandon,” Grandpa’s voice carried that particular warmth he reserved for his favorite students, “it’s been too long since you’ve visited your old professor. And now that my granddaughter is back from Europe, this calls for a celebration.” He turned to Parker, who still hovered near the doorway. “Parker, please prepare dinner. Brandon and Summer will both be joining us.”

“Of course, Professor.” Parker’s expression remained perfectly professional, but I caught the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. Great. Even Parker’s in on whatever this is.

“Professor, I wouldn’t want to impose—” I started, but Grandpa waved away my protest with the same gesture he’d probably used to dismiss countless academic arguments.

“Nonsense! Brandon, you must stay. Summer just got back from managing Fortune Corp’s European division. She’s still adjusting to the time difference, aren’t you, dear?”

Brandon’s dark eyes flickered to my face, and I fought the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. “Miss Taylor seems rather surprised to see me here.”

“To be honest, Mr. Stark,” I couldn’t keep the edge from my voice, “finding out you’re my grandfather’s student is… unexpected.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in that infuriating half-smile. “Do you think we have any reason to deceive you about this?”

“Brandon,” Grandpa cut in before I could respond, his voice carrying a hint of pride, “this is the granddaughter I’ve mentioned so often. She followed in your footsteps at Columbia, you know. Graduated with honors, and now she’s already an Executive Director at Fortune Corp.”

I wanted to sink into the leather armchair and disappear. Was Grandpa actually bragging about me to Brandon Stark? The same Brandon Stark who’d seen me at my absolute worst just days ago?

“Her work with the European division has been particularly impressive,” Grandpa continued, either oblivious to or deliberately ignoring my discomfort. “The quarterly reports show significant improvement under her management.”

Brandon’s expression remained unreadable, but something in his eyes made my skin prickle. “Indeed. Very… impressive.”

What? My head snapped up. “Grandpa—”

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken words. I could feel Brandon’s gaze on me, as tangible as a physical touch. Don’t fidget. Don’t show weakness. “So, Mr. Stark,” I kept my voice carefully neutral, “Which year were you Grandpa’s student?” And how have I never heard about Brandon Stark being his student before?

Fifteen? I tried not to let my surprise show, but failed miserably. “You were a child prodigy?” Of course he was. Because being the most powerful man on Wall Street wasn’t impressive enough.

God, this man. I fought the urge to bolt from the sofa like a startled deer. “Mr. Stark, could you please keep your distance?”